


Comfort Zones

by MintyCho



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, BlackIce, Darkness, Different views, Extrovert, Hurt/Comfort, Introvert, M/M, Phobia, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintyCho/pseuds/MintyCho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our comfort zones are what keeps us sane, in control, undisturbed.<br/>We're willing to fight for them, to avoid or devour anything that counters them.<br/>But what to do when others' comforts add more color to our own? How far will the light accept the dark? And in return? What will be the outcome of two completely different lifestyles that should never be intertwined?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heliophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fanfiction. It might be a little rusty, so please point out any mistakes you come across that I might've missed.

He hated sunlight. He hated it with a burning passion. He hated it so much it terrified him.

There was an apartment building outside a small city. It was simple, unpretentious, and located conveniently close to a university, which meant most of its residents were students. Except one. A cynical, bitter creature named Pitch Black.

There were rumors flying around calling him all sorts of foul things. The Creepy Cretin, The ghoul on the top floor, anti-social freak, the list goes on. But because he rarely went out, none of his neighbors really knew what he did for work, much less the kind of person he was.

-

The room had no windows. And really, how could it? The owner hated the sun. Hated it so much he feared the very sight of it. Much like his name, he preferred the dark and quiet relief of his own home. He rarely left his flat, and even when he did, it was always at night.

The room was lit only by a box-shaped light source - a computer. Its brightness was radiant against the shadowed walls, the screen contained a pixel white paper filled with so many words the file seemed endless. A clear silhouette of a man was visible across from the brightness, his pale gold eyes were sleepless and worn-out, but stubbornly insistent on examining the chapter. He wanted to be done with it quickly, the sun was coming up soon. He had to use his time carefully.

The sound of fingers gliding gently across the keyboard, either adding or removing words, finding the right connections for sentences, and checking the story's content, could be heard almost every hour of every day. The only time it stopped was when the workaholic needed a drink of cinnamon coffee and a whiff of a black, sweet scented cigarette to calm his nerves. Deadlines were a bitch. Even sleep was hard to come by.

Pitch finished typing the last word and eagerly sat back in his chair. He stretched his arms and relaxed his stiff shoulders. Sitting in the same position for hours straight was painful, but rewarding.

He placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply as the sweet taste filled his mouth. Slipping out of the chair and grabbing his empty mug he left the room.

Everything inside his flat was disturbingly clean, and neat up to the very last detail. No trace of dust whatsoever. He liked to keep everything in order. Not a thing was out of place.

Scratching his arm absentmindedly, Pitch watched the kettle fill up with water before he placed it on the stove and turned on the gas. Moving the cigarette with his lips he exhaled a cloud of smoke

He was expecting a call from the writer he was editing. Pitch hated those phone calls. They always left him feeling distressed. But that would come later, much later. First, he needed throw together some breakfast.

Pitch rinsed out his mug and dried with a towel. Opening the cupboard, he took out an instant noodle soup bowl. Pitch was familiar with the instructions, he had read them plenty of times before, but each time he took out a new one he wondered whether or not it had changed, and if it did, he wanted to know about it. Scanning the customary and dull words on the side of the bowl, he found nothing distinctive or odd on it from the previous ones. 

Shrugging, Pitch ripped the polyethylene packaging off and set the bowl next to the steaming kettle. He poured the scalding water inside and closed the lid, placing chopsticks on top of it to block the steam from leaving. Then he moved on to making coffee: three spoons of it, no sugar, no milk. And just a touch of cinnamon. He stirred it as he poured the water. A pleasant scent of caffeine filled the room, Pitch breathed it in deeply and let a half-smile slip onto his face before his watch went off in alarm.  


Silently cursing, he switched it off. It was time.

His eyes turned towards the window, the curtains were dark grey to prevent sunlight from getting through, but they weren't wide enough and through the little cracks at the sides he could see it starting to seep through. 

Daylight. So bright, so warm, so longing.

It petrified him.

Snarling, Pitch grabbed his breakfast and retreated into the calming darkness of his room, locking the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will explain Jack's comfort zone.


	2. Big Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo. Here it is. Jack's comfort zone.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, subscriptions! I appreciate it! :D

"Are you really leaving, Jack?"

Jack turned. A little girl with messy blonde hair was standing in front of him, clutching a stuffed bunny rabbit. Behind her were a couple of other children, they all shared the same heartbreaking expression.

"Yeah."

His smile was strained. Unhappy faces of children always left him feeling miserable.

The little girl’s brother stepped forward; he was relatively taller and leaner than the girl, with nut brown eyes and short brown hair, his expression sorrowful. "You'll come visit us, right?" he asked, sounding hopeful as he wrapped his arm around his little sister.

Jack crouched down and ruffled the boy's hair. "Of course I will, Jamie. Who do you think you're taking to?"

The smile the boy gave him lifted something heavy he was feeling in his chest throughout their goodbye. "Be good to your sister, alright? She's all you got. I'll check up on you all once things settle."

The boy nodded and the kids behind him erupted in a series of goodbyes and take cares. The silver haired young man waved to them as he set off in the direction to his house.

He knew that once high school was over that this day would come. He understood his decision and was even looking forward to it, but if there was one thing he dreaded it was leaving the kids he'd grown so close to. Sometimes Jack wondered if it would have been better to stay at home while attending university instead of moving out. Surely it would have meant he wouldn’t have to see those hurt expressions and sad faces. They would just continue having snowball fights and play hide-and-seek, and it would remind him of what it was to be a kid. But it also would remind him the kind of childhood he never had growing up. Jack sighed and kicked a pebble he'd come across on his way. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets. His childhood was definitely not something worth discussing, or thinking about for that matter.

-

Jack was late. He half-hoped his excuse, that saying goodbye to his friends held him up and made him lose track of time, would save his ass, but when it came to his parents he doubted anything would work. Even if he was struck by lightning or run over by a car, it wouldn't matter. He'd still see the same disappointment on their face. They would always find something to blame him for. There was always something.

Besides, he's late - he's better off dead anyway.

As soon as he opened the front door he heard a familiar dissatisfied and cold voice in his ears.

"You're late."

It was his mother.

"I know, I just got caught up in goodbyes and-"

"Save your excuses. I don't need them."

Jack gritted his teeth. The feeling of something heavy weighing over his chest returned, only this time, it was accompanied by a cold hand clenching his stomach.

"Where's Dad?"

"He's in the garage, and he told you a million times to not call him that. You're lucky I won't tell him. I don't need to hear another one of his fits because of you." The woman sighed, her brown eyes squinting in irritation as she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She always kept her hair short, but it was quick at growing out. Jack had no doubt that she was planning on getting another haircut soon. 

The boy felt something bitter roll on his tongue. 

_Here we go again._

"Have you seen Mary?" He tried again even though it was obvious his attempts were hopeless. His mother wasn't in a great mood, then again, she never was when it came to him.

She turned to him with a glare that just screamed why the hell are you talking to me? 

_Go away._

He took the hint and went upstairs. Honestly, he didn't know why he tried. He knew that the outcome would be the same. It had been like that ever since he was born.

"Jack, Jack! You're back!" 

Jack felt the cold grip on his stomach dissolve as the warm, cheery voice melted in him.

He could barely brace himself before a small ball of long brown hair jumped on him and wrapped itself around him, seizing his torso. Jack laughed and hugged her back. "How are you, kiddo?" 

"I'm great! Daddy bought me a stuffed doggy!" 

_Daddy..._ That word stung. Jack forced a smile on his face. "That's great!" He let go of his little sister and set her down on the carpet, taking her hand in his. "Let's go see it."

She nodded enthusiastically and led him to her room. 

Jack tried to ignore the acid jolt in his stomach. She was probably the only one in his family that would actually miss him.

-

They were packing his things, laughing, remembering and retelling stories about some of the things that he had in his room and joking around before his sister suddenly got quiet.

"Jack."

"Hm?"

"Do mommy and daddy love you?"

Jack froze at first, the puzzlement in her voice surprised him. He looked over at her. Mary was staring at their family photo, her face was worried and gloomy.

He walked over to her, laughing nervously, and ruffled her hair. "What are you talking about? Of course they do. I'm their son, why wouldn't they?"

Mary stepped away from him and gripped the wooden frame in her tighter hands. "I see it! Even if you guys try to hide it, I can see it. They don't love you like they love me. Why?"

 _Why indeed._ Jack wondered that himself. He held up his hands in a calming manner and took the photo frame from her, setting it back down on his nightstand. 

Tears tickled down her cheeks. "It's not fair, what do I have that you don't? Why do they treat me better?"

"Hey, hey, hey." Jack felt his voice break as he wrapped his arms around her head and hugged her close to his chest.

"It doesn't matter what our parents think of me, the important thing is that you have a family that loves you."

She hiccuped and sobbed as Jack stroked her hair gently.

When Mary was born, Jack and his parents made a promise to hide their embittered relationship in front of her so she could have a normal, dramaless childhood. Occasionally, though, his mom or dad would let it slip, but Mary never seemed to notice anything. She never said anything about it, never brought it up.

Until now.

"Jack, I'm scared."

Jack was jolted away from his thoughts. He pulled Mary away from his chest and held her by the shoulders. Her eyes were still leaking tears and her nose was red.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked as he wiped her tears with his sleeve.

She sniffed. "I'm scared that once you leave you'll forget about me. And if mommy and daddy have another baby they’ll forget about me, too."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed. Have their parents decided to have another child?

"Did you hear them talking about it?"

She shook her head. "But they will once they get tired of me."

"No, no, no. Don't think like that. You just don't see how much they love you. Which is fine, because you can't see everything. But trust me on this - they love you, a lot."

"Really?" Jack could see her breathing was slowly returning to normal.

"Would I trick you?"

"Yes, you always play tricks!"

He chuckled, he couldn't help it. "Well, this isn't one of them. Though, I can't help but do this."

Mary was about to ask what, when her question drowned in a pool of laughter as Jack began to tickle her. They continued to tickle one another and run around the room, consumed in the fun that Jack had always provided for her. The fun continued for the next fifteen minutes before the two called it quits.

Afterwards, when the two finished playing tickle war, they fell onto Jack's bed, catching their breath.

Mary smiled at Jack, the cheerfulness was coming back to her. 

"Thanks for always being there, Jack."

He found himself once again captured in her warm hug. Jack smiled, circling his arms around his little sister.

"Of course. I'm your big brother after all. You're all I got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter the different sides collide. Muwahahahah! >:D


	3. Thunderstorm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOO. So many of you guys like the story, I'm touched. I checked my statistics and it said that most of you subscribed to this story. *sobsob* I didn't think you'd like it so much!  
> But hey, took a long time, huh? I hope the size of it makes up for all the time you guys had to wait for me to update! Lots of things happened, so I wasn't able to update like I previously planned. (Writing the other two fics were one of them).  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this and I'll see you at the end of the chapter!~

If there was any advice Jack could give to those moving out of their parent's house, it was to be prepared for anything. Really, anything.

Weather forecasts being the first thing on the list.

It was raining hard by the time he got to the apartment complex. His clothes and hair were completely drenched, they clung to his body as he made his way up to the front desk. 

He watched the news just before he left and they said that it would be sunny. Unfortunately for him, they were incorrect and he made the foolish mistake of believing them and didn't bring an umbrella with him.

He cursed himself for being so trusting.

 _Sunny my ass._ Jack thought, annoyed. 

Placing his bags down, he turned back to see that he left a dirty water trail on the carpet. He hoped it wasn't too noticeable. And that the owner wouldn't kill him. He didn't know whether the stains would wash off.

"Oh my, you're soaking wet." He was greeted by a voice behind the counter.

"Think fast." Jack barely had the time to respond when a towel was tossed at him. It landed on his head and covered his face.

He brought his hands up and began drying his damp hair. 

"Thanks, not bringing an umbrella gave me a hard time."

He lifted the towel and was momentarily struck by bright cherry colored hair. 

"I know right? Those damn weather forecasts, never get things right." The girl sighed with her hands on her hips, looking just as annoyed as Jack felt. Then she met his eyes and smiled. "I'm Lovianna, but everyone calls me Lovi. Welcome."

"Jack Frost." He managed to say. Her hair was distracting. He had never seen such a rich and vibrant color of red before. It was surprisingly easy on the eyes and he couldn't look away.

"Frost?" She laughed. "It certainly fits your image." She said gazing at his wintry white hair.

"Which apartment are you renting?" Lovi asked as she began flipping through a check-in book.

Jack huffed and searched around his pockets before taking out a piece of washed out crumbled up paper. 

_Damn storm._

The ink on it was smudged, but he was able to make out the numbers.

"Er, apartment six-zero-six." He said eyeing the blurred digits and he saw the girl tense, her eyes snapping away from the book and narrowing on him.

"Are you sure you have the right room number?" 

He looked through the writing again, making sure he didn't make a mistake in decrypting it.

"Yeah." 

"Are you _sure_?" Her voice sounded deadly serious.

Jack nodded, handing her the poor excuse of a note. "I saw the ad, it said that it was the cheapest room here."

Lovi took the paper from him and studied it. "No one's ever wanted this apartment." Her hazel eyes looked hollow.

Sudden panic peaked in Jack. It mixed with excitement as he felt his thoughts and ideas fly. "Why? Is it haunted? Was someone murdered there?"

The ad never mentioned anything creepy or dangerous about the place. There were no terrifying backstories to it, at least he didn't hear any. Although, he did think the price was too small for such a large apartment when he first saw the ad. 

Lovi shook her head. "No, nothing drastic like that." She handed him the crumbled up note back. "It's the roommate that they usually worry about."

"The roommate?" Jack was really curious now. "What're they like?" 

Lovi looked like she was trying to find the right words. "He's um. A bit of a shut-in. He doesn't like people and conversations. He's basically like a ghost, no one really sees him."

"Oh." Jack didn't really know how to reply to that. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to hear either. 

He has heard about the type of people who didn't like socializing or going out, just bits and pieces though, since he never met anyone like that in real life. 

He never really understood people like that. 

He loved to talk to new people, get to know them, make new friends, have fun. He found it hard to grasp how a person can dislike people without even getting to know them first, since by the look of it they rarely went out in the first place.

Still, the price was increadibly affordable, even for him, who did part-time summer jobs before graduation to make sure he wouldn't end up on the streets in case no college would accept him. His parents were kind enough to pay for the tuition, though it felt like they were doing it just to get rid of him faster.

Jack shook his head. It wasn't the time to think about that. He was starting a new life, there was no need to plague it with depressing childhood memories.

Finally he looked up to find Lovi was studying him, probably waiting for his answer. She didn't look too hopeful, but there was a trace of faith in her eyes, just itching to hear him accept.

"I don't mind a roommate like that, if anything it'll be quiet and peaceful." Jack smiled. 

Besides, if things wouldn't work out, he could always stay in the lobby. The cushions looked comfy.

"Great! I'll get the paperwork, in the meantime, here." She handed him the key.

"Go check out the place, hopefully you won't change your mind."

"Floor six." Was the last thing she said before she disappeared into the back room. 

Jack yelled a thank you after her and gathered his stuff. 

The apartment complex didn't have an elevator, so Jack found himself tugging his heavy suitcases up the stairs all the way to the sixth floor. Once he got there, he let go of the bags and breathed thoroughly. He was starting to see the reason for the cheap rooms.

The room he was searching for was the last door to the right at the end of the hall. Staring at the number on the door, Jack braced himself before inserting the key in the keyhole and turning the knob.

-

Pitch furrowed his eyebrows at the text before him. There was something missing. Something important. But he couldn't figure out what. Up to that part everything sounded right and had a flow to it, but now it felt lost. Pitch felt lost. And he didn't like that feeling.

He had multiple ideas on how to portray the scene better, but everytime he typed them out on a different Word document they seemed dreadful and horrid. He was embarrassed at how he could come up with such ludacris things.

Still, he couldn't place what was wrong. And that really bothered him.

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. He needed a break. A short, quick break. Then he'd get back to brainstorming. 

Come to think of it, the weather forecast said it would be sunny today. Which meant there would be a thunderstorm instead. 

Pitch snickered.

He learned a long time ago not to trust superficial predictions. They were just a gamble on fate, a concept and representation of one's views on weak-willed facts and so-called 'gut instincts'.

The man stretched in his seat. Thunderstorms were the best for when you want to ventilate a room. He'd better get to it, his short break was ticking away.

Pitch got up from his chair and made his away across the room to his door. He opened a slight gap and poked out to see if he was right.

He was. The harsh sound of water hitting the glass proved it, along with the occasional thunder roars.

Pitch pushed the door all the way and left it ajar as he walked over to the window. He slid it open in one swift moment. The fresh and moist breeze filled the stuffy, cold room. The clouds made the sky look darker than it actually was, a rare smile grew on the man's features.

Rain really was his most favorite type of weather. The clouds would block the sun, preventing its light from getting through and tormenting him while the rain would wash away the pain, the angst, the memories and the thoughts. It would shut off all the constant process in his brain and silence his inner-demons.

He closed his eyes and soaked in the sound of the water slamming against the pavement.

_So beautiful and distracting. The only thing that's missing is coffee._

His eyes snapped open.

_Coffee. That's it._

He rushed back to his room and began frantically typing on the keyboard. Coffee. Of course it had to be something so obvious and simple. Pitch almost kicked himself for not even considering it.

He swallowed drily and licked the back of his teeth, tasting the nasty flavor on his tongue. Come to think of it, he could use some coffee. He finished typing and grabbed his mug, exiting his room.

Pitch could have sworn he heard some kind of thud in the main room. His hearing was exceptionally good, so he trusted it.

He hurried out, just as the lightning struck outside and was met by an unexpected surprise. A white-haired little surprise.

-

The first thing Jack noticed was the open window across the room, showing the storm outside, the rain was dripping onto the wooden table under it. The second was how exceedingly clean the apartment was. He couldn't even see one speck of dust, the place was spotless.

He let his bags fall onto the ground with a thud as he stared in awe. He's never seen anything so well-kept and organized.

Jack heard rushed footsteps in his direction from the room on his left. A bubble of excitement formed in him as he turned to greet his new roommate, but just then the lighting struck. 

He jumped back, slightly whimpering. Lightning has always been one of his worst terrors. He managed to catch a glimpse of the man just before the whiteness temporary blinded him.

The lightning highlighted the creature's high cheekbones and nose. His hair was messy, but clean. There were dark circles under his surprised golden eyes, indicating lack of sleep. His jawline had a slight three o'clock shadow and he smelled of something sweet mixed with coffee. He was holding a white mug in his hands.

When the lightning disappeared and the room became dark again, Jack straightened himself and stuck out his hand. 

"Hey there, you must be my new roommate." He smiled brightly at the man. "I'm Jack Frost. Nice to meet'cha!"

"There's a human being in my flat." The man stated, mostly to himself, before throwing an acid glare at Jack, completely ignoring the young man's outstretched hand.

 _What the hell?_ Jack thought, his hand dropping. He thought he was being nice, there was no need to lash out and be so bitter.

"What do you want with me? How did you get in?" The taller man began questioning the boy, staring into his eyes intensely.

"I-um, Lovi gave me the key." Jack answered, holding it up. 

He was momentarily hypnotized by those bright golden eyes. "You never told me your na-"

"Of course. Leave it to Lovi to come up with something like this." The man muttured under his breath, looking exhausted and irritated. 

"Come up with what?" 

"How much did she pay you?" The man had walked over to him and was now standing really close to him. Jack could feel his hot breath on his forehead.

"What are you talking about? No one payed me." He backed away, holding up his hands up in front of him. "I came here out of my own free will."

Pitch scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? No one in their right bloody mind would come here out of their own free will."

There were so many questions, so much confusion forming and bubbling around in Jack's head. It was too much, in fact, he had to look away for a moment to calm himself. He didn't know where to start. It was late, it was dark outside, it was raining and he was tired. Extremely tired. He really didn't want to argue over the reason for his appearance on the man's doorstep. They had only just met, it wasn't enough to begin sharing his personal problems.

He looked over to the man, who was eyeing him with distaste.

"You never gave me your name." He found himself asking, despite there being so many other different and more important questions floating around in his head.

The man rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, whether it was to answer Jack's question or retort another snarky remark he would never know because at that moment a female's young frisky voice cut him off.

"Well if it isn't Pitch Black in the flesh!" Lovi said, walking into the apartment. She placed her hands on her hips, one of which was holding a stack of papers.

"No one's seen you around for ages, you know. You had me worried." She smiled gently, and Jack found it astonishing that she could talk to the man in such a friendly manner. 

Pitch's face twisted into a displeased frown.

"I find it hard to believe that anything worries you, Lovianna." He retorted as he walked past her to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

"It's nice to see you in your high spirits, Bogeyman." She replied, but then her eyes widened and Jack saw the man's posture stiffen.

Pitch sighed, turning his head back to face her. "What do you want from me?"

Jack was struck at how miserable and frail his expression was, his eyes were continuously pleading for him to be left alone.

Lovi shifted, looking guilty and gestured to the kettle. "Why don't you make us some tea. We have to talk something over." She motioned to Jack, who still felt like he was missing something big in their conversation.

Pitch stole a glance at the boy before turning back and sighed once again. 

"Go sit over by the window, I'll join you shortly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? I'm a bit nervous on hearing the reviews, but I'm open to any criticism in my way, so don't hold back!  
> In the next chapter the three discuss the terms of Jack sharing the place with Pitch and (most likely) Jack's first day in his new college! Wheee. Hopefully it'll turn out a lot more exciting than it sounds.  
> Thank you for reading and have a lovely day, you fabulous beasts<3 *cookies for everyone*


	4. Persistence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally up. Sorry it took so long. (; A ; )

"Absolutely not."

Lovi heaved a sigh coated with frustration as Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly immensely interested in the wooden patterns on the table.  


It had been almost an hour since they'd started persuading Pitch into letting Jack stay. The digital clock on the kitchen counter proved it. It hadn't been really successful so far; the man was as stubborn as a mule. The rain had long stopped pouring and the thunder was nowhere to be seen, though the hideous, bleak atmosphere remained outside.

It wasn't late, but Jack was dead tired already. He had no idea that the roommate’s' voice was also called for in these things, and Pitch was making it fairly obvious he was against this arrangement. Or this coercion, as he called it.

“I do not need an immature little brat running around my flat,” he had stated earlier, his cold demeanor at its best as he brought their tea. “He'll only disturb the peace.”

Jack felt a little hurt by Pitch's words and the attitude he had towards him. He only just met the man and already was marked down as some little kid who had more action in his limbs than his brain. Pitch probably considered him to be nothing more than a troubled teenager who ran away from home after a fight with his parents over them not buying him a new phone or playstation. Which wasn't the case, not at all.

He had always disliked when adults did that, assumed things. Jack wasn't a child anymore, he had responsibilities he was in charge of now. He had grown up to be even more mature and reasonable than when he was still in school, he just needed someone to give him a chance to prove it. 

Lovi tried again, determined to win this argument. "Look, he's got no other place to go - everything's filled. There are no apartments left." 

"Why should it matter to me about where he has to go? He can stay on the couches downstairs for all I care." Pitch’s voice was as bitter as his stare at the young man sitting across from him.

Jack bit back the harsh words that were piling up in his mouth. The bastard was really asking for it.

"He says he can pay for his half of the rent, that would benefit the both of you seeing as the place is cheap enough already." Lovi nudged him hopefully.

When Pitch sent her a dry look she pursued her lips. It didn't look like money was the problem. 

She became even more persistent. "He already said he'll be quiet. He doesn't want to bother you any more than you want to be bothered."

Pitch turned to drink out of his mug, its faintly sweet and bitter smell enveloped Jack's nostrils, forcing his mind to run wild with attempts to try and remember the annoyingly familiar combination of scents. Jack couldn't quite put his finger on it, and it was utterly embarrassing, after all, he was studying to become a chef. The man's eyes then travelled to him, snapping the awkward teen out of his restless thoughts, and bore into him for a long, silent moment. 

The brunette set the cup down onto the table with a light clack and breathed out heavily, dismissive of the boy's sudden change in expression. "I really need to get back to work."  


Lovi scoffed in disbelief while Jack drank a generous amount of his tea to suppress his groan and insults. 

The man was impossible, and Jack, much to his displeasure of disliking people, could feel himself grow immensely annoyed with him. What was the big deal, really?  


"That's all you can ever think about." The redhead shook her head in irritation before her eyes unexpectedly lit up as if the puzzle pieces had finished forming in her head. An enormous grin spread on her face as she turned to Pitch. "How about this: let the kid spend the night here. A little test-run. It's late anyway, only a monster would turn away the poor boy." 

It wasn't that late, but they were getting desperate.

Jack could've sworn he saw Pitch wince at the last sentence, but he brushed it off as an illusion played on him by his exhaustion. His eyes travelled to the cup in his hands, it was getting harder to keep his eyelids from closing. He could really use a soft pillow to wash away the perpetual exhaustion he'd been feeling throughout this whole conversation.

"If everything is fine by morning he can move in." Jack hadn't noticed he’d zoned out again, his mind snapped back from his sleep-deprived state just in time to hear Lovi finish phrasing her new idea. She looked even more proud of herself than she had when they began the discussion; there was a fire in her eyes that reminded him of the lively color of her hair when he first saw her. For a moment he pondered whether her hair was natural or not. It didn't look ginger at all, too blood-red.

"I have very strict rules, Lovianna. If they are not followed one may look forward to some very unpleasant consequences." Pitch still seemed unfazed, but something in his reply made Lovi's eyes shift, increasing the boldness. 

His determination was cracking, of that Jack was sure. Even if there was not much of a change, he could see it in the man's face - he was just as tired of this discussion as Jack was.  


"Just give me the run-down on it and you'll have nothing to worry about." Jack's voice came out wearier than he thought it would. He just wanted this to be over with so he could finally sleep. He had no idea his roomie would be so uptight. 

The duo then glanced at him, as though they had forgotten that he was sitting there.

The man's gaze stayed longer on the young boy, calculating, before shutting his eyes and nodding in defeat. "Fine. One night."

"Alright!" Lovi jumped in her seat and clapped her hands.

Pitch heaved an exhausted sigh as he got up from the table. "One night doesn't mean he gets to move in."

Lovi waved him off. "Yes, yes, like I haven't heard that line before. Now Jack," She leaned closer to him, pressing her elbows to the table. "This is it. Your attitude will determine whether or not you get to stay." Her face looked sheepish as she spoke. "I'm sorry, this is the best I could do. He's very hard to persuade, as I'm sure you noticed."

"I can hear you, you know. I'm still in the room." Pitch interjected with a sullen frown while washing his coffee cup.

"He can be a handful, I know. But I look forward to see you settle in and start your new life!" Lovi beamed at Jack, ignoring Pitch's low grumble. "I take it you picked this complex for the university?"

Jack cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self-conscious now that the attention had shifted on him. "Uh, yeah."

"What's your major?" 

"Culinary arts."

Both of them heard a sudden snicker coming from the kitchen. Lovi rolled her eyes and Jack could feel his cheeks begin to burn. 

"Don't mind him. He's had too much coffee today."

Jack shook his head. "It's okay. It's not really something guys my age choose to study."

Lovi shrugged. "Food is an important human need, hardly a thing to ridicule. I find it admirable you want to study it. I hope I'll get to taste-test some of your creations." She winked as she stood from the table.

Jack felt himself blush slightly. "If you think you can stomach it, then by all means." He grinned at her as he followed her to the door, feeling the atmosphere become lighter.  


When the door was closed and Jack was grabbing his things, Pitch appeared out of nowhere and pressed him against the wall. His hand grasped the collar of his hoodie and lifted him off the ground. 

Jack dropped his bag. "What?" He asked the man, trying to concentrate on something other than the lack of distance between them. The back of his head and neck hurt from the impact with the wall and his view was dizzied. The air left him too, and his lungs were in pain from the lack of oxygen. He had to hand it to Pitch, he knew how to disarm a person, and scare the shit out of them at the same time, though he would never admit the second part out loud. His fingers dug into the man's hand, hoping they'd be enough to make the man let go.

"Just so you know, I'm being exceptionally generous letting you stay the night. I have three scripts left to edit and an original short to complete. I don't have time to waste on little children like you." Pitch's words hit Jack like acid as his grip on the fabric tightened. "Once morning comes, you're out of here. Got it?" He let go and walked back to his room, shutting the door with a loud thud.

Jack slid down onto the floor and hugged his knees. That was close, so very, very close. The cold breeze was already wiping off the heat off of their contact, but he could still feel the faint warmth of Pitch's fist on his chest. He wasn't sure what Pitch's deal with him staying was, but it was clearly something to do with the way he interacted with other people. He didn't seem like the type to chat friendly at strangers, but his deep intense discomfort on sharing an apartment frustrated Jack. They wouldn't run into each other anyway, even if he did move in. The university life would keep him busy. Studying, going to parties and making friends takes up a lot of time. Hell, he was absolutely certain that Pitch would forget about his existence in the very first weeks of his stay. It didn't take his parents long to forget. 

So what was his deal? Jack wasn't so sure he wanted to move in after Pitch's little display, but what other choice did he have? He had no where else to go. He didn't want to stay downstairs because he didn't want to bother Lovi, she went through enough trying to get Pitch to let him stay. He didn't really have a lot choices either. He'd prefer this place to his family any day. It didn't hurt as much when a person dislikes you when they don't anything about you, at least then you can comfort yourself by saying that they don't know you. Whereas with his family... 

Jack shook his head and gathered his dropped things. He was feeling sick and tired already, there was no need to make it worse.

Still, something about that man burned deep questions in Jack's mind as he stood motionless in the room, his eyes focused on the door the man disappeared through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so kinda lied about Jack's first day at the uni, that'll be in the next chapter.  
> I only have a rough plan on how the story will progress, but the main twists are already formed in my head.  
> Thank you for reading and have a lovely day<3 *hands cookies*


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